White Meets White: A NejiHina Anthology
by Tasogare-Taichou
Summary: Pairing: NejiHina. A collection of oneshots, eventually numbering 50, all featuring the pairing of NejiXHinata. Ratings and genres will vary with each one, so I'll give the overall thing a T rating.
1. Sharpness and Sweetness

Sharpness and Sweetness

Hyuuga Neji has never been what one might call a humble man. In fact, he's quite distinctly known as the direct opposite. Arrogant, self-assure, even cocky at times. Secure in his knowledge that not only is he an accomplished Jounin, well on his way to ANBU status, but that he is the genius of a clan who keeps his wings bound. And he contents himself with that knowledge, for a time. The knowledge that regardless of how hard the Head family crushes him down, binding his potential and keeping him caged, his own genius and skills bleed through the curtains they throw around him. Like an unhealing wound, crimson scarlet tears leaking slowly through white gauze, they can never truly keep him bound. They may find it a simple task to bind his body, to cage and control him, but they cannot place a leash or collar on his abilities for those expand and grow as he does, even without his own will driving their motion.

He has never _needed_ to be humble, though the Soke would wish it so. Abilities they themselves both covet and admire, wanting to both showcase and yet limit. Afterall, it isn't in their plans for the genius of the Hyuuga clan to escape the control they keep over him. Perhaps that is why he persists in his arrogance, his coldness. The harsh portrayal that he holds for the rest of the world serving perhaps as a façade. Or maybe it is merely that his pride is the one thing that the Soke can never take from him, regardless of where his life's path may lead him. Either way, Neji has no plans to become a humble man. There is no need for it, after all.

_She_ makes him humble, despite all his wishes and against all his plans. Without thought or reason, she brings down all his pride and all his coldness. Turning him, with one soft word and the merest touch of her hand, to a better man. She is different from him, completely unlike those around her who she calls family. Softer, gentler, a different breed entirely. She sees the world through tender eyes and touches it with even more tender fingertips, soothing away hurt and pain wherever she finds it. And that in itself is humbling to him. For it is something he himself has never been able to do.

Neji is not a healer, neither of body nor of spirit. He is a fighter, strength tempered and weathered and sharpened into a finely-honed blade of war. A creation made for killing and bloodshed, a tool of a world tinged crimson by that same shed blood. But she…she is different. An angel of mercy and compassion, shining a soft white light onto the bloodied battlefield not merely from the chakra that leaks easily from hands far softer then his, but from the very essence of her soul itself. She is hope, where he is vengeance. And in that knowledge, he finds himself humbled. For she has a gift far greater then any skills or abilities that he has been blessed with.

He thinks to himself how he once called her weak, taunted and belittled her for her inability to fight at any level that would have been considered "worthy". How, even in the face of such harshness from him, and in spite of the brutal beating doled out by his own hands, she pushed herself to her feet and continued onward, voice determined and manner steeled against his stinging words. And even now, those thoughts bring with them the lingering taste of shame that he, whose sight exceeds everyone's, was so blind to the truth.

She chides him for it gently, whenever he tries to apologize for the way he treated her all those years ago, reminding him with gentle voice that it is a different time, a different world now then the one they once inhabited. That he is no longer that same man, his resolve coloured by hatred and vengeance and directing the entirety of his hatred towards the easiest target. The one who smiled at him with gentle eyes and forgiving mature. The one who deserved his rage least of all.

And even that is humbling to Neji. The way she can forgive, forget, smile and once again direct that gentle touch towards him as she smiles up at him from her seat on the edge of the porch, their infant son cradled in her lap, the golden rays of the sun reflecting off the soft lavender of her kimono. In that moment, she seems even more like an angel, and Neji can feel his breath catch in his throat for a moment at the most humbling thought of all. That this woman, this perfect creature of light and mercy and goodness, could have ever given her heart into his own bloodstained and uncaring hands. That of all the people she could have chosen, her feelings settled on what he considers to be the unworthiest of them all. Himself. And as he smiles gently down at her, a smile reserved only for her, that precious few others have ever seen, he thinks to himself that there is nothing else in this world that he would willingly humble himself for. But for her…always.


	2. Breaking Free

Breaking Free

Blood peppered the front of his shirt, crimson spatter warring with the clean and untouched white. Some of it was his, most of it wasn't. Feet sliding across the dusty ground, the moon's light the only illumination that lit the blood-stained battleground with her gossamer fingers of soft moonshine. Once, twice, three times and into the rotation he knew so well, the movements fluid and easy, flowing from him with practiced ease as the chakra pulsed down his limbs and erupted in a whirlwind of obliterating force as Neji effortlessly pulled the energy into the familiar dome of the kaiten.  
He didn't know who it was that had attacked him during what had become his nightly ritual. All he knew was that at some point during his routine training, his finely-honed senses had been made aware of a presence, concealed with some degree of skill yet still possessing the raggedness of untrained and un-mastered abilities. A novice, likely some pretentious underling come to watch the Hyuuga clan's strongest train himself, hoping to goad the white-eyed man into a fight that would only prove to be pointless and a waste of his time.  
That was the thought that Neji had told himself, even as he rolled expressionless white eyes and turned towards the shadows where he knew the other waited. He had simply called out to them, beckoned them onward. Made a show, of sorts, of illustrating that he not only knew they were there, but knew he outmatched them. Perhaps that was the reason for the widening of those same eyes as a shadowed figure rushed him, small gloved hands moving in a blur of seals. A girl, by her size and shape; or a child. The body was too small, too light to have been anything else. And the figure _moved_ like a kunoichi.  
He hadn't planned to fight seriously. After all, this was likely only a child, an Academy student come in the dead of night to test their fortitude and their mettle against Hyuuga Neji, who was well-known throughout Konoha as one of the strongest Jounin. Likely there were even others, waiting hidden in the shadows beyond his range for their comrade to return and regale them with tales of narrowly-escaped injuries. And though he might not have wished to humor such a thing, neither did Neji wish to severely injure or kill a child.  
But those thoughts changed when the kunai was thrown, grazing his cheek with a deadly precision that did everything to show the seriousness of it's wielder's resolve. She stood her ground, another blade drawn and held at the ready, stance light and variable. A _Hyuuga_ stance. And for a moment, the gears of Neji's world slowed, stalling as his brain processed this new information. One of his own clan, attacking with what seemed a very real intent to kill. As he dodged a flurry of Juuken-enhanced strikes, his mind grabbed for shreds of thought in an attempt to identify who in their right mind would attack him this way. There were certainly those of the clan who disliked him and the relative closeness he held to the Soke simply by virtue of his familial relationship to Hiashi-sama. But for one of them to attack him? The thought was a difficult one to wrap his psyche around.  
And yet, his opponent was surprisingly skilled. Obviously of lesser skill then Neji himself, but enough so to warrant his seriousness. With a clash of steel as kunai met, they separated, his sharp vision locking onto those same small hands as one bare fingertip was raised to a slit in the black porcelain mask. A flash of white teeth and the spark of crimson as blood welled up from split skin.  
Taking bloodied finger, she ran it over the opposing palm, forming characters Neji couldn't see before hands flew together in a series of seals he _did_ recognize. Blood ran cold, chilled to liquid ice in his veins as the black hand of fear clawed it's way through his innards. He _knew_ those seals, would have their sequence engraved into his mind for all eternity regardless of how many times his subconscious mind attempted to block it out. He would always see the burnt-in afterimage of a different pair of hands slowly forming those same seals, caging him into his destiny.  
Had the Jounin taken the time to think, he would have noticed that they were different, that though similar, the series of simple hand motions and movements were subtly altered from the ones he so dreaded. But at the moment, analytical thinking was not the foremost thought that drove Neji's current actions. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps rage, perhaps simply an unconscious outburst against the one thing he had struggled against since he was four years old. Chakra hummed, movements sharpened as he let go of inhibitions and struck out with the same ferocity that he showed on mission, to those who dared call themselves his enemy.  
His opponent saw, reacted, but all too late. He felt the chakra leave his open palm as the flesh of his hand impacted with a hard crack against the center of her chest, her own palm striking hard at the center of his forehead, bearing with it a searing burn that seemed to rip through his very mind itself. Neji forced pain-wracked white eyes to focus on the black mask, so similar to that of an ANBU and yet different entirely. He felt the crushing pain in his forehead begin to eb, it's harshness unraveling to a dull ache, carrying with it a curious sense of lifting weight.  
She dropped to her knees, ragged breaths the only evidence of the damage his strike had wrought. Shakily, the girl raised her head to look at him as the ties of the mask broke and the black porcelain slipped away. And as the smooth ceramic hit the ground, cracking in two, Neji felt a crushing grip take hold of his lungs at the familiar face that smiled weakly back at him, thin trail of blood coming from the corner of lips that shouldn't have been that pale, had they been getting adequate blood-flow.

"Arigatou...Neji-niisan."

Neji was frozen, face blanched, body immobile. Not her. It couldn't have been her, _shouldn't_ have been her. Hurt and anger flashed in his eyes as he finally gained control over his wayward limbs, fingers digging into her shoulders as he shook her. It didn't make sense. Why _she_ of all people would attack him, force him to this point, push him and drive him to lose his control, to do the one thing that was likely certain to bring about his death. And she…thanked him? For what? For the strike that had likely burst her heart with it's vehement blast of chakra? His grip tightened on her arms, bruisingly tight against her fair skin as he shook her again, her dark head lolling back and forth with the force of his anger.

"Why?!"

It was the only thing he could think of to say, the only question he could ask. The girl in his arms coughed, bright blood staining white teeth, trickling from the side of her mouth as she raised one shaking hand to brush fingertips against his forehead with a faint smile. Lips moved slowly, deliberately as she fought for the breath to tell him the truth, to make him understand. One word, barely audible in it's whispered delicacy.

"Freedom…"

He caught her hand in his without thinking, expression changing from anger to one of shock, confusion and something that resembled despair as he looked down at her. Freedom? How was this freedom? What did the concept that had always seemed laced with brutal irony have to do with her rapidly-fading life? White eyes turned slightly upward, their normally pearlescent colour beginning to dim as life slipped swiftly away into the night. Yet in spite of that, he could see himself reflected in them, bandages burned away from a forehead that no longer bore the seal that had caused him a lifetime's worth of pain. And in that moment, Hyuuga Neji understood what she meant. Not freedom for her. Freedom for _him_. And now, all the pieces fell into place as she weakly squeezed his hand, another cough sending blood bubbling up from ruined lungs and heart. She'd taken everything she'd learned, everything she'd worked so hard for, and put it into one purpose. And that purpose had been _his_ future, not her own.

_Hinata-sama…you…perhaps you were even more trapped within the cage of the Hyuuga then I was. If so…was this your way of changing your own fate?_

It all made sense as he watched the light fade from eyes he had never realized regarded him with such tenderness. She had taken herself, all that made her who she was, and tempered it for the one goal of setting him free from his curse. And she had done it in the only way she had known how. Perhaps she had even known that the end result would be this. Known that he would have reacted as he did, that her own life would be the bounty paid for his release from captivity. Known that and yet still made the choice to push forward, to fight against fate's hold on her. And in doing so, she had erased all the pain. And all the hurt and anger and rage he'd held inside had evaporated into so much smoke, leaving behind nothing but calm and a knawing emptiness that rested where her presence once had.

Neji felt her hand grow limp as her body relaxed, the last breath of life leaving it in the faintest whisper of his name, soft smile still on her face. Letting go of the still-warm fingers, the Jounin realized he was shaking as arms slipped around her shoulders, holding her limp form against his chest, bare forehead resting against her face. Freedom, she had said… Freedom was a gift. Something precious, to be coveted, and something he had yearned for and thirsted for since the juuin had been carved into his forehead. Something he had never thought he would…regret. But now, when faced with the startling reality of it all, Hyuuga Neji could no longer be sure if the price paid for freedom wasn't too much of a price for him to bear.


End file.
